


Mythical Legends

by KoiDragons



Series: Darkened Reflections of Ourselves [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: But the Prophecy MUST be completed, F/F, F/M, Gen, Genderbends, It's told with the basic HP plot, M/M, Might branch off to KHR later, Some people are reincarnated though, The Earthborns have a serious role in this, The Golden Trio dies, The Quidditch World Cup goes seriously wrong, darker world, lots of people die, more like reincarnated?, they aren't exactly resurrected
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-23
Updated: 2016-11-23
Packaged: 2018-09-01 15:51:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8630224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KoiDragons/pseuds/KoiDragons
Summary: Harry Potter is dead. But a prophecy must be completed. Venus rises in his place, a darkened reflection of Harry Potter, one that is still destined to kill Lord Voldemort. Yet she is not the only one born from the ashes of another soul. Arthur and Hecate, reborn of Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, join her.And they are not the only ones. Another prophecy has been set into motion, and they aren't the only ones destined to wake up after dying, changed from their walk into the land of the dead.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Some HP Fanfictions describe a prophecy as something that can be avoided. I wanted to see if I could write one that was set into stone, and had to be completed, even if the one involving it died before they were supposed to. Combine that with my desire to write a KHR and HP crossover, and this plot bunny spawned.

**Prologue - The Funny Thing About Fate and Prophecies**

* * *

 

 

Harry Potter dies hearing the furious roars of his best friend Ron Weasley as he desperately fights off Death Eaters, and the sight of his other best friend, Hermione Granger’s corpse. He curses the Death Eaters, curses himself for his inaptitude, and curses the idea that the Quidditch World Cup was a good idea.

 

He should have known better with his luck.

 

Harry Potter abruptly materializes onto a train station.

 

One that he knows very well.

 

Platform Nine and ¾ quarters stands tall and gleaming, yet what chills him is the lack of people. It is completely empty, and unnerved, he turns away and exits through the portal. Yet what should be the muggle area right between Platform 9 and 10, there is flush green grass and a bright blue moon hanging over him.

 

Mist clings to the area around him, thin enough that he can see, yet thick enough that he cannot peer through any further than a few feet. It is… disorienting.

 

Peering back he sees no portal, no brick column he could go back through.

 

Only more mist.

 

That is when _she_ appears through the mist.

 

She is beautiful. Long black green-tinted hair and bright blue eyes, pale skin and a womanly shape. She is dressed in a white dress, orange accents decorating it, and an odd, mushroom shaped hat sits atop her head. Oddly enough, an orange clover decorates her cheek.

 

Harry Potter doesn’t even need to think hard to know she’s not human.

 

She glows, flickering with light almost like a ghost, yet her body is perfectly solid. Her eyes and hair, neon blue and dark black green are not natural human colors. She walks with no sound at all, he cannot hear her breathing nor her dress swishing. She has an allure about her, similar to the Veela he had seen merely hours earlier, yet it was more subtle.

 

She did not force his attraction. She merely made it impossible not to notice her.

 

Yet his gaze is sucked in by something else than her impossible stature.

 

Something more powerful.

 

Around her neck was a stone. Glowing amber light filled it, an actual fire flickering brightly from within. He is reminded of the bluebell fires Hermione filled ornaments with, using them to light the area they just so happened to have been exploring at the time.

 

It is entrancing. Almost unnoticed, he stepped towards it, before rearing back with surprise.

 

The Woman smiles, dark and sad when she notices him to do so.

 

 _“Harry Potter, son of James Potter, Lord of the Potter Family, and Lillian Potter née Evans. Child of Albion Prophecy and blessed child of the Sky. You have caused a headache with destiny, young man.”_ The Woman remarks, and Harry’s head reels at the mention of a prophecy.

 

Her eyes narrow down upon him. _“You are most certainly dead, but fate will not relinquish you and death will not be denied. The prophecy is written within the Great Loom, and it will not be uncomplete.”_

 

The Woman's gaze was unflinching. _“Harry Potter is dead.”_ She repeats. _“But the prophecy must be completed.”_ She declares.

 

 _“The others disagree on what to do. But you are one of mine, a sky-child bound by the shackles of predetermined destiny, and I will not allow another darkened path.”_ The Woman ( _Goddess?_ ) reaches over and grimly smiles.

 

_“The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord  approaches ... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies ... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not ... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives ... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born.”_

 

She shudders.

 

_“Born from the ashes of death, bathed with the flames of spirit, the destined vanquisher of the shattered Ruler awakens… six knights shall be gathered, born of similar beginnings, called forth from the land of the dead, shattered reflections of their previous selves... Albion shall be burnt of its corruption, or it shall fall into an eternal darkness… one Ruler shall reign victorious._

 

Her eyes suddenly focused once more, staring _through_ him, making Harry want to step back, but he is frozen.

 

Her hands, gentle and bare of any calluses, gently cradle his face.

 

Then her hands burn.

 

Amber flames devour him, and as his world tilts and shatters like glass, Harry Potter ceases to exist.

 

A month later bright amber eyes snap open, and a naked body twitches in a pile of ashes.

 

A shuddering breath escapes the body, and it heaves and coughs as their lungs fill with air.

 

Pale, unmarked skin glows against the dark surrounding of ash, delicate hands gripping the ground. Breasts heave up and down with each deep breath. A body, young but distinctly curved for one so youthful, shifts and quivers in the cold air.

 

The young girl, trembling like a newborn fawn, struggles to lift herself to her feet. Her dark brown hair shifts, turning to the darkest black. With a blink her amber eyes shift like a kaleidoscope, disappearing in favor of the most brilliant of amethyst.

 

The one once known as Harry Potter quavers in the chilled temperatures, clumsy steps leading them out of the bushes they were into a grove they _knew._

 

It was the grove where Harry Potter died.

 

Yet the young girl noticed something else.

 

_Ash._

 

_Ash and bodies._

 

Butt naked, as she was currently, two others lay slumbering on the ground. One, will bright golden hair, pale skin, and a muscular body. The other, a girl, her hair dark chocolate, fell over and surrounded her body in a mess of curls.

 

She looked into their faces and reeled back.

  
Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger’s peaceful faces stared up at her, a mockery of what they had been.

 

What in Merlin's name was going on?

* * *

 

**Author's Note:**

> If anyone can guess just who the "Woman" was, I give you a kudos. She is a Sky Arcobaleno, but probably not the one you think. I'm hoping at least some of you can guess her, I purposely made it so you don't know just where in the KHR timeline this is taking place just yet.


End file.
